


Name of Love

by ILUCIDA



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eremika - Freeform, Eremika Week, F/M, eremikaweek2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 03:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21067925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILUCIDA/pseuds/ILUCIDA
Summary: In another world they could have lived together.Eremika Week Day 04: Parents/Family





	Name of Love

There was something nostalgic about making spinach pancakes.

Carla remembered very well when Eren burst in the door asking her to give him spinach to become strong like the hero of one of Armin’s books. He hated the taste, but was so determined to eat that she found herself inventing a tastier way to cater to her son’s whim.

It was good to have them at home. The wind from the window seemed freshier, the afternoons, warmer, the house brighter. Soon Mikasa would be back for her students in Trost, but the certainty that she would be back in a few weeks made those days an unflappable peace.

She grabbed the frying pan, pouring the contents onto a platter, and removed the bread and cookies from the cupboard when she noticed the raindrops beginning to rush into the yard.

“Eren, the clothes,” she recalled up the stairs, but got no answer.

……

He put his strong arms around her and Mikasa pushed him as if in warning, but let herself fall on the bed.

“Eren, you got to help your mom with the garden. And I have to go back to Trost.”

The new cadets admitted to that year would soon arrive and she had to sort out some details about the teaching structure.

“It’s early,” he kept his grip on her, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

Eren was so sly when he just woke up.

“Carla already asked me to call you for coffee, let’s not leave her alone when we can eat all together,” she scolded looking up at the ceiling.

“Coffee won’t get cold if I spend a minute or ten with my girlfriend,” he kissed her softly and she found herself unable not to give him a few minutes.

Eren’s kiss turned voracious, and she soon observed the irony of someone who claimed to be sleepy. Her reason was long gone when she heard his name called.

“Eren, I told you already …”, Carla would say in the doorway when she stagnated.

She sat up quickly disconcerted as the older woman’s gaze went from her to Eren.

“Mikasa, can you set the table?” She asked kindly.

Mikasa nodded, adjusting the pink robe over her nightgown and giving her a bland smile with a scarlet face and Carla laughed to herself.

She was so happy.

There was still to sigh from the corners. He performed his tasks with the same dexterity as ever, but with a light air. An air of love.

She watched with affection the blossoming of that stoic child who had once come to her house quiet and bloody. No one could be happier to see them together than she was, but there were things to talk about and she had to make sense in their heads.

As soon as she was visibly grateful, Carla turned to her son.

“You were supposed to take the clothes off the clothesline.”

“It’ll dry again,” Eren stood up lining the bed.

Carla nodded and sat on the edge of the bed as he worked at the headboard.

“What do you want to say, Mrs. Yeager?” He asked, noting that his mother was pondering something.

“I’m thinking it’s time for us to make it formal.”

“What?”

Carla stared at him for a second, waiting for him to absorb each of his words.

“Marry her.”

Eren’s brow furrowed like a stub.

“Marriage? What the hell …?”

“It’s simple,” she interrupted, watching in frustration that her worst fear was coming true: the idea would never occur to Eren alone.

“Do you like her?”

He nodded and she turned around asking questions answered desperately with no, “Do you intend to break up? Do you have any doubt? Do you want to leave her? There’s anyone else that you want to spend your life with?”

“Of course not, what the fuck!” Eren replied red, the veins in his throat startling with that impropriety.

“Then there’s nothing to discuss. In a moment people will start talking.”

“I don’t care what anyone says.”

“But I care, I don’t want Mikasa’s name going around the market. And what would I say to her parents if I found them? That I let your precious daughter live in concubinage?”

“Hey,” he chided, “do you have to talk like that?”

Carla sighed. She was not a sword between two lovers nor a sentinel of the morals and consuetude. Eren and Mikasa’s love had more loyalty, fidelity, and commitment than many couples that she knew.

However, that was not how this world worked, and the target would not be Eren.

“I have. That’s not what I receive her at my house, and I don’t want bastard grandchildren either, or a single-parent daughter.”

Eren raised his face. Children?

“You have a lot of imagination.”

“That’s not what I said about the scenarios of having my grandchildren ignored in schoolmates’ birthday invitations, or Mikasa being disregarded at family parties, because that’s what happens: they isolate you.”

“Mom, I never thought …”

“So it’s good to hurry. Mikasa, beautiful as she is … others are thinking.”

Eren scowled, his mother had taken the day to push him to the limit.

“That’s not it,” he defended himself.

Marrying Mikasa was a natural idea for him. Yes, they would get married, have a home, live quietly until they grew old. But this idyllic moment just wasn’t come. Mikasa had accepted the invitation to teach with the recruits, and seemed very much in love with the craft. He had joined the army medical corps in Shiganshina out of curiosity to find out about the work done by two generations of his family. They see each other on some weekends, or when they were lucky enough to have layoffs on similar days.

“Of course I want to marry Mikasa, but our lives just… don’t coincide?”

Carla approached, wrapping his hand between hers, “But that’s just what marriage is. Two people striving for a life together.”

He understood … So that was the missing gear to reach the intangible future.

But…

“What if she doesn’t accept?”

Carla stood up.

Not.

She refused.

She couldn’t tell whom his son had pulled. Grisha wasn’t, neither she.

“You’ll have to ask to know,” she stamped out.

…

She ran her fingers over the charcoal strands in two strands, then intertwined with each other. Mikasa’s hair was thick and silky.

Carla remembered the first time that she saw her. Bloodstained robes, a vague look, and a bruise on her face that made her wonder what kind of animal would do this to a little girl.

It was a fright to see Grisha arrive with two bloodstained children in the middle of the night. Realizing that neither of them were seriously injured, she asked Eren to take her up and provide clean clothes.

Alone with her husband, it was shocking to know what they had faced, the danger they had taken made her chest tear, it was also very painful to think that her son had stained his hands with such filthy types.

It was a dangerous world for children. This was one of the few moments she regretted being a mother.

When she went up, she prepared Mikasa’s bath, which kept quiet by scanning the house with his eyes.

There was blood on her nails, as well as on her dress, which made Carla fear the worst, besides hematomas on her arm. She made a mental note to burn all that junk and turned on the water hoping she would take the stains of that violence away.

As she had come to discover over the days, Mikasa was quiet and not demanding. He dressed in what she had, made no requests and just nodded placidly to his questions.

Then Carla combed her. Mikasa’s wet hair makes her carefully wiped the towel more than once so she wouldn’t get cold. You could see that the thick, soft strands were very well taken care of, and when Mikasa closed her eyes as she slid the brush, she realized that her mind had shifted to someone who should did it every night.

Carla noticed that she had almost fallen asleep with her touch, and smiled to herself thinking how much she had always wanted a girl.

And yes, Mikasa was the perfect daughter. Always kind and helpful, she was careful. It helped with all the chores of the house, from the dishes to the clothes. As much as she insisted that she didn’t have to, she saw that girl was driven by a sincere desire to help her. It was as her love showed.

However, it was not a simple equation.

The early days were difficult. She even had a fever and horrible nightmares. Mikasa, despite being too focused on not causing trouble, being helpful and helping her in everything she could or nor, couldn’t suppress herself to such an extent that she couldn’t see how much she was suffering.

It was one of those nights that she lay on her side and pulled her against her chest.

“I’m not your real mother, nor can I take her place. But I’m here. Did you hear? I’m here.”

She knew she would not become Mikasa’s mother overnight. She needed to learn just as Mikasa had to teach her, and for that she had to leave the doors wide open.

The girl cuddled in her lap, and when she looked at her, it was with a shy but tangible tenderness.

They said nothing more and just lay side by side slightly sleepy for countless minutes, so that it reminded her of home. What it was like to be with your own mother.

Maybe there she already knew that their relationship had changed, but her titling came only a few months later, when, by putting her to sleep, she called her mother, almost involuntarily. It was like being crowned, as if receiving a new patent.

She was so happy that he couldn’t help bragging about Grisha when they went to bed.

And so she saw Mikasa integrate fully into her family, accepting them as much as they had accepted her.

Now she was about to officially become a Yeager.

She finished the long braid by attaching it to the end and probed the work with meticulous eyes.

Mikasa was perfect.

She was as beautiful as she had ever imagined in her dreams.


End file.
